Time Bomb
by N'kala
Summary: A mad bomber is destroying schools, and it's up to Don and Charlie to stop him before the clock runs out.
1. Default Chapter

Title: Time Bomb  
Author: N'kala99  
Disclaimer: Not mine!  
Summary: A mad bomber is destroying schools, and it's up to Don and Charlie to stop him before the clock runs out.  
Author's Notes: It's not like me to write fanfiction so quickly after a new show airs, but I just can't help myself. I just love watching the show, and I really wanted to see more of a familial interaction.

Time Bomb  
Chapter One

_" . . . was a raging inferno. Fire fighters responded to the scene almost immediately, and were able to contain the fire before it spread to other buildings. This was the latest in a chain of unusual bombings in Southern California. So far, the FBI has had no comment as to who might be responsible, or why. This is Connie Truman; back to you, Dave."_

Don Eppes switched the TV off and turned to the agents gathered in the room with him. "This guy is escalating. The time between bombings has gone from one every five days to now one every three. Have we found anything we can use to help us narrow our suspect list?"

"Right now it looks as though our bomber's only targeting the math or science buildings on these campuses," Terry Lake stated, flipping through a file folder. "But we don't know yet why they're targeting certain schools."

"At least it's spring break," David Sinclair spoke up. "Casualties have been minimal."

"Unfortunately, that won't last." Don went to the large map plastered on the wall. Red tacks were stuck where bombings had occurred. "Where's Charlie on those equations? It would help to know where our bomber might strike next."

"He took off this morning," Terry told him. "Something about needing to think. He said he'd get us the equation later today, as soon as he has it pulled together."

"Well, we can't wait on him to finish," Don stated. "Keep working on the link between schools. David, start calling around to some of the local colleges and get a line on dissatisfied students or faculty."

"Where are you going?" Terry asked as Don grabbed his suit jacket.

Don grinned wryly. "I'm going to see how our resident math genius is coming along. I'll see you guys later."

* * *

Don Eppes guided his car onto the driveway at his father's home and shut off the engine. Stepping outside, he squinted up at the sky, taking note of the dark clouds beginning to roll overhead. The weather forecast had predicted a slight chance of showers, but it looked as though the odds of that had increased.

Don walked into the house and glanced around the entryway, searching for some sign of life. "Dad? Charlie? Anybody home?"

"Don! Back here!"

Don moved deeper into the house, finding his father in the kitchen. His father grinned welcomingly at him, then resumed his search of his cabinets. "I'm making some chili for dinner; you're just in time to help. Grab me some beans from the pantry, will you?"

"Have you seen Charlie?" Don asked, retrieving the requested item. "He promised me some numbers this morning, but I haven't heard from him since. Our perp is really getting a move on, and we can't afford to wait."

"He's at school, where else?" Alan replied, setting some spices down on the counter. "He came home this morning, but he mentioned something about going there for some materials or something from his office. He may have had an appointment, too; I'm not really sure."

"Thanks, Dad." Don turned and headed back out the door, but paused briefly and glanced back at Alan. "Save me some chili, huh?"

Alan winked at his son, who smiled.

* * *

The university parking lot was nearly empty, allowing Don the opportunity to park closer than he was usually able. Truth be told, the campus was actually quite nice, and on more relaxed days, Don liked walking along the carefully manicured paths when visiting his brother.

Several students mingled about the lawn, but with the coming storm, they weren't staying for very long. Don knew that some professors were in their offices, working, but thanks to spring break, they didn't have to worry about teaching any classes.

Don rounded the corner of one building, bringing Charlie's building into view. He spied a window open in Charlie's office and knew that his brother was inside. He took another step when suddenly a deafening explosion shook the ground, knocking Don off of his feet.

End Part One


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two 

Don blinked away the dark spots floating before his eyes and shook his head, trying to come back to his senses. Rolling up on his elbows, he stared dumbly at Charlie's building.

Or what was left of it.

The tall building that had once housed offices and classrooms was now a shambles. Half of the building was blackened, with smoke billowing into the air. Flames licked the air through several windows. Already, people were yelling at one another, staring at the building in shock, but their cries fell on deaf ears. The full extent of what he was seeing was finally hitting Don.

Hard.

"Charlie," he breathed in disbelief. The window he had just been looking at was gone. In its place was a gaping hole with reddish orange flames filling its gap.

A horror like nothing Don had ever felt began to consume the agent, and he scrambled to his feet. Sirens whined from a distance, but Don knew they would never get there in time. He started to run for the building, increasing his speed with each step.

The doors, thankfully, had not suffered too much damage and opened easily. Don plunged into the thick smoke, blinking harshly and fighting back coughs. "Charlie!"

No answer.

Don crouched low, shedding his suit jacket. He pulled off his dress shirt and pressed it firmly against his nose and mouth, then headed down the hall towards Charlie's office, praying fervently that, somehow, he was all right.

As he neared his little brother's office, the damage from the blast was more obvious. Debris lined the hall, making it hard for Don to move forward. He knew that his time was short; there was no telling whether or not the roof would collapse, or if there would be another explosion. But he had yet to see or hear Charlie, and that spurred him onward.

The sight of Charlie's office stopped Don's heart. He felt as though a chunk of ice had dropped into his stomach, despite the heat from the blazing inferno. Nothing remained of the office; what had once been a desk and chair and shelves was little more than smoldering wreckage, kinder feeding the flames. Don waded through the damage, eyes burning from the smoke. Coughs were beginning to rack his body, but he couldn't leave. Not without Charlie.

Don moved throughout the room, his heart pounding so hard in his chest that he felt as though it would explode. Where was Charlie?

There- in the corner. An arm.

Don stumbled over the remains of what could have once been a bookshelf and knelt down. Lifting away large, thick pieces of plywood and plaster, he found his little brother, unconscious. Blood stained half of his face from a wound on his temple, and his breathing was shallow. Don didn't know if anything else was wrong with Charlie, but he knew that he had to get him out of there before he suffocated or burned. Quickly tying his shirt around his face, Don used his now free hands to lift Charlie into a fireman's carry and stood. Turning, he traced his way carefully out of the office.

He was met by several fire fighters the instant he stepped out of the building and into the fresh air. One of the men lifted Charlie from Don's shoulder and carried him away while another helped Don over to a waiting ambulance.

Don staggered, grateful for the assistance. His head turned back to the building, now under assault by a relentless stream of water.

The fire fighter settled Don down against the bumper of the ambulance and, patting his shoulder, ran back to join his coworkers in the fight to subdue the flames. Don tried to wave off a hovering medic, but the man was insistent. He pressed an oxygen mask against Don's nose and mouth.

"How's Charlie?" Don demanded, his voice muffled by the mask.

"Who?" the medic asked, confused.

"The man that the other fireman just brought over here," Don replied, pushing the mask aside and craning his neck around, searching for Charlie. "Where is he? Is he all right?"

"My partner's with him now," the medic replied, readjusting the mask on Don's face. "As soon as we've got him stabilized, we'll be moving him to LA Medical."

"I'm coming with you," Don stated.

The medic frowned. "Now, sir-."

"He's my brother," Don told the medic. "I'm coming with you."

The medic didn't reply; only nodded.

* * *

Don was sitting in the waiting room, wishing he could stand and pace around to burn off the anxiety he was feeling, but he was still attached to an oxygen tank, recovering from the smoke inhalation. The exam room door was open, allowing Don to watch doctors and nurses come and go. So far, he had heard no word on his brother.

Alan's frame suddenly filled the doorway. "Don! My God!"

He walked over to Don and drew his older child into a tight hug, then pulled away. Cradling Don's face with his hands, he stared into his son's eyes. "Are you all right? What happened? I heard that there was a fire at the campus. Where's Charlie?"

Don took off the oxygen mask. "I don't know, Dad," he said, choosing to ignore, for the moment, the other questions. "They haven't told me anything yet. I was just about to go flag down a nurse and see what the deal is."

Alan followed his son out the door and over to the nurse's station. Don ducked down to catch the eye of an elderly-looking woman.

"Ma'am?" he asked. "Can you tell me which room Charlie Eppes is in? He was brought in with me? From CalSci?"

The nurse checked the computer in front of her. "The doctor's still seeing him right now. I'll let him know you're waiting. If you'll please take a seat in the waiting room?"

Don looked at Alan, whose face clearly showed worry and frustration. They both wanted to see the youngest Eppes, and did not feel like waiting. Unfortunately, there was nothing more they could do.

They did not have to wait long. A man with slightly graying black hair entered the waiting room. "Is there anyone here for a Charlie Eppes?"

Don and Alan jumped up immediately, crowding the doctor. "How is he?" Alan demanded.

"Charlie's going to be fine," the doctor reassured them. "He took a nasty blow to the head, resulting in a concussion, and he suffered some severe smoke inhalation. He's going to be very lightheaded and disoriented for the next few days; is there anyone who can look after him while he recovers?"

"Yes," Don and Alan answered in unison.

The doctor nodded. "Good. Well, other than that, and some cuts and bruises, he's fine. I'd like for him to receive a little more oxygen treatment for the next half hour, but then he can be released. He's a very lucky young man. If he had been in that building much longer . . ."

Don felt the clenching in his stomach begin to ease, and he took a deep breath. "Can we see him?"

The doctor nodded again. "Sure, I'll take you to him."

Don and Alan followed him through the hallway, then thanked him as he left them just outside of Charlie's room. Pushing the door open, they entered.

Charlie was lying in bed, his eyes closed. His face was pale; almost the same color as the bandage wrapped securely around his head. A nasal canula fed oxygen to Charlie, the tube trailing across the bed and to a machine next to him. Upon their entrance, Charlie's eyes opened to slits.

Alan rushed to Charlie's side and grasped Charlie's right hand, using another hand to brush Charlie's dark, curly locks off of his forehead. "Hey, Kiddo. How you feelin'?"

Charlie smiled faintly. "Hey, Dad," he rasped. "What're you doing here?"

Alan snorted softly. "I came for the food."

Don moved closer to Charlie's bed. "Hey."

Charlie's eyes studied Don's appearance, and Don suddenly became aware that he was dressed in his undershirt and dress pants.

"Where's your shirt?" Charlie asked.

Don smirked. "I thought I'd try a new look. You don't like it?"

Charlie refused to be baited. His dark eyes flickered from his father to his brother. "What's going on? What happened? The last thing I remember is finishing that equation. I went to go find a book, and then there was this explosion, then nothing."

"Explosion?" Alan looked accusingly at Don. "What's this about an explosion?"

Don sighed. Trying to soften the blow as much as possible, he told his family what had happened at the campus, and what he had done. When he finished, his father's face was as pale as Charlie's. Charlie, on the other hand, was staring curiously at Don.

"You- you did what?" Alan asked.

Don stared firmly into his father's eyes. "I had to, Dad. Besides, you heard the doctor."

Alan returned his son's gaze evenly; finally, he spoke.

"So what does this mean?" he asked. "Was the explosion an accident, or was it intentional. And if it was intentional, why target the building?"

Don was wondering about that himself. The explosion certainly fit in with the MO of their bomber. Until he was absolutely sure, though, he wasn't going to burden Alan or Charlie with his thoughts.

"I'm going to check in with the office, get some of the guys on this," he told his brother. "I'll see you later, okay?"

Charlie nodded. Don retreated, but before he could leave, Charlie's weak voice called him back.

"Don?"

Don paused and glanced back, a question in his eyes.

"Thanks."

Don smiled.

End Part Two


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three 

"Don! We heard what happened. Are you and Charlie all right?"

Don, fresh from his apartment with a change of clothes, strode boldly through the bullpen towards his office. He was joined by Terry and David.

"I'm fine," Don assured them. "Charlie's in the hospital, though. It could've been worse, but something's not adding up. I want every agent available on this."

"Is there a connection to our case, you think?" Terry asked.

Don didn't answer. The truth was, he was afraid of what the answer could mean. Instead, he asked, "Have there been any new developments in the case?"

"The explosion at CalSci looks to be from the same bomber that got the other schools," David told him. "Our guy isn't on a schedule anymore. I think he's detonating bombs as soon as he sets them up."

"Do we have any leads on suspects yet?"

"We have a long list of names from each of the bombed campuses, except from CalSci," Terry replied. "We're still running checks on them, but once we finish cross-  
referencing the names with the schools, we should have a better idea of who we're looking for.

Don tossed his suit jacket onto the back of his chair and rolled up his sleeves. "All right, then, while the inspectors finish going over the CalSci site, let's make a dent in these lists."

* * *

It was dinnertime by the time Alan brought Charlie home from the hospital. After promising the doctor that he would look after Charlie, the young man had been discharged. Charlie was still groggy from the explosion, though he tried to deny it to his father. Alan, though, was having none of it. Ignoring his son's protests, he assisted Charlie to the car.

Charlie was silent during the ride back home, his eyes focused on his hands in his lap. Alan continued to toss him concerned looks, but refrained from speaking about the ordeal. There would be time enough for that later.

Alan pulled to a stop in his driveway and shut off the engine. Exiting his car, he circled around to the passenger side and opened Charlie's door, helping Charlie out with a steady hand.

"Dad, I'm fine," Charlie protested. "You don't have to do this."

Alan's arms were wrapped securely around Charlie as he guided his youngest son to the house and into the living room, gently setting him down onto the couch. Charlie insisted he didn't need the help, but his death grip on Alan's shirt told Alan the truth.

"Dad, really, I'm okay," Charlie protested as Alan pushed him onto his back. Alan ignored him, choosing instead to shake out an afghan and spread it over his son.

"I left chili cooking in the kitchen," Alan told him. "You feeling hungry? I'll bring you a bowl. You relax."

"Dad-." It was no use. Alan was already gone, rattling around in the kitchen for bowls and silverware. Charlie sighed and sat up, pausing slightly when his head swam. He wanted to help his father; show his father that he really was okay. Once he thought he had some semblance of control, he pushed himself to his feet and started towards the kitchen.

Charlie's vision suddenly darkened sharply. He felt himself began to tilt to one side and was powerless to stop it. Just when he felt as though he would hit the ground, a pair of sturdy arms caught him and steadied him. He heard a voice dimly from somewhere near his ear, but couldn't identify it.

The arms pulled him back in the direction of the couch and pushed him back down. As his vision finally cleared, he saw the very worried face of his older brother hovering over him.

"You okay, Charlie?" Don demanded. He glanced over his shoulder, probably checking to make sure their father hadn't heard the commotion.

"I'm fine," Charlie told him. "I got a little disoriented for a minute, but I'm okay now."

He moved to sit up again, but Don's firm hand on his chest kept him reclined. "Oh no you don't. You nearly gave me a heart attack just now. You're staying put, even if I have to tie you down myself."

Charlie rolled his eyes, but decided to change the subject. "Did you find anything out about what happened yet?" he asked.

Don opened his mouth, trying to find something to change the subject, when Alan returned with a steaming bowl of chili and a tall glass of water.

"Hey, Don," he greeted. He set the bowl and glass down, then gently pulled Charlie into a sitting position. "You want some chili? I'll get you a bowl as soon as I take care of Charlie."

Charlie scowled. "Dad-."

"Don't start with me, young man," Alan said sternly. "You nearly got blown up today. Let me take care of you."

"I did not nearly get blown up!" Charlie insisted. He fought off the restraining hands and tried to stand, only to have another wave of dizziness overtake him. Don and Alan each caught one of Charlie's arms and eased him back onto the couch.

"The sooner you let us help you, the sooner we'll leave you alone," Don told him firmly, once Charlie's eyes had cleared. "So just shut up and eat your supper."

Alan handed Charlie the bowl. "Unless you want us to feed you?"

Charlie took the bowl and the spoon his father offered. "I think I'll be okay," he retorted.

As Alan returned to the kitchen, Charlie turned back to Don. "Well?"

"Nothing conclusive," Don replied. "I've got the entire office on it, though. You just worry about getting better, and let me handle the investigation."

Charlie dipped his spoon into his chili. A thought struck him, and he looked sharply at his brother. "Do you think this has to do with the case?"

"Charlie," Don said, a warning in his voice.

"But you do," Charlie insisted. "I wish I had my notes, but they were in my office . . . I don't suppose they survived?"

"Charlie, we were lucky you survived," Don told him. "You're off the case. We'll take it from here."

"But," Charlie protested.

"No buts," Don insisted. "Believe it or not, we've solved cases in the past without your help. I think we'll manage."

Charlie sighed. He swirled his spoon around in his chili, a frown on his face. The numbers were running through his mind. Whether or not Don wanted it, Charlie was going to finish what he'd started.

End Part Three


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four 

"You've got to be _kidding_ me!"

Terry was unphased by Don's outburst. "Sorry, Don, but the connection just doesn't exist. We crossed every name in every possible way with the other names and schools, but came up with nothing."

"There has to be _something_ we can use to go on!" Don rustled through the papers.

"Not with expelled students or fired teachers," Terry pointed out. "I'm sure there's a connection, but we're not going to find it there." She watched Don's furious search for another minute. "How's Charlie doing?"

Don paused, but kept his eyes on the papers in his hands. It had been two days since the explosion at Cal Sci. Under their father's watchful eye, Charlie had mostly recovered. He was able to move around on his own without becoming lightheaded, and move he did. Though Don had no proof, he knew Charlie was still working on the bombing case. The very idea upset him more than he cared to admit; Charlie had gotten too close to being killed because of this case, and Don was worried about his safety.

"He's driving Dad nuts," Don finally told Terry. "Dad thinks he should rest some more, and all Charlie wants to do is work."

Terry grinned. "Sounds like someone else I know."

Don ignored the jibe and returned his attention to the case. "We've looked at people being fired, people getting kicked out, and even checked into some of the larger disagreements about job assignments, and we've come up with nothing. What are some other reasons people might want to destroy a school?"

"I think I might be able to answer that."

Don turned in his chair and immediately jumped to his feet. A disapproving frown creased his features. "Charlie, what the hell are you doing here? I took you off the case, remember?"

Charlie shot Don a wry look. "Yeah, well, I got news for you, Don. I don't work for you. What I choose to do with my own time is my business, and I decided to work on those equations."

Don crossed over to Charlie and, taking his arm, guided him to a chair. "At least sit down, all right? Now, what do you have for us?"

Charlie set his notebook down and opened it, revealing a mess of numbers and letters in his untidy scrawl. "I've been going back over the locations for the bombings, and I think I've uncovered something. Now, it's not finished, but the patterns for the bombings is distinct."

"What pattern?" Don asked. "We haven't seen any pattern. Some schools are being hit, some not. There's no longer a set timeline."

"The pattern isn't geographical, it's chronological," Charlie explained. "At least, it seems that way."

"Chronological?" Terry echoed. "How can you tell?"

"It's easy to miss, but that's this integer here." Charlie pointed at a place on his equation and looked up at Terry and Don. Seeing their puzzled looks, he focused his gaze inwards, trying to explain. "I can't pinpoint what specific order that the bomber is going in; I can just prove that, to his mind, the order is very deliberate."

"Okay, so the schools are connected somehow," Don said slowly. "But how? You said you had other reasons people would blow up a school?"

Charlie nodded. "The world of academia is more challenging and stressful most people think. In some ways, it's more cutthroat than you would believe. People's lives and careers can be made or broken based solely on what happens in school. Now, back when I first started at CalSci, I didn't realize that. I mean, I never had any trouble getting into the school or the classes I needed. But other people are not so lucky. Don, you remember Mickey Collins?"

Don frowned, searching his mind. The name rang a very sharp bell in his head, but he couldn't place it.

Charlie glanced at Terry. "Most schools, CalSci included, have only so many spots available on their roster. People who apply too late often have to be placed on a waiting list in order to get in."

"Something tells me that you didn't have to worry about that," Terry stated.

Charlie nodded. "Right. Well, there was this one applicant who was convinced that he was denied his acceptance to CalSci because of me."

"Son of a . . ." Don stared at his brother, the memory clear in his eyes. "Mickey Collins. He was the guy who harassed you at school."

Charlie nodded. "Mom and Dad eventually got a restraining order placed on him. The point is, getting into a good school means everything to some people. And those people will do almost anything to make sure that happens."

"So you think our bomber was denied admittance to these schools, and now he's getting revenge?" Terry asked.

"It all makes sense," Charlie insisted. "The timeline could very well be the order in which he was sent the rejection letters."

Don was on the phone in half a heartbeat. "David, go to CalU and pull the admittance applications for the last ten years. Just bring back any letters from people who were not admitted to the school." He hung up. "Terry, take Berkley and UCLA. I'm going to hit the others. This is our first real lead, and I want that name before the next school goes."

Terry nodded and hurried out of the office. Don slapped Charlie on the back. "Great work, kiddo. Now get back home before Dad comes looking for you."

Charlie scowled after Don. "You're going to need me to find the next school!" he called after his brother's retreating back.

"Then I'll know where to find you!"

* * *

Alan stood in the doorway to the garage and watched as his younger son scribbled numbers and letters across one of the many chalkboards. The only memento left of his ordeal at CalSci was a simple gauze bandage on his temple, but all Alan could see was the frail image of his son that he had seen in the hospital. He wished he could order Charlie to take a break, to go to bed and get some sleep, but Charlie was a grown man. He had to let Charlie make his own decisions.

But that didn't mean he couldn't try.

"You must be feeling better," Alan ventured.

Charlie didn't even look up from his board. "Good as new."

"Is that for Don, or does this have to do with that 'p' thing?"

"It's p versus np, Dad, and yes, this is for Don," Charlie replied. "I'm trying to predict the next site of the school bombings before the bomber strikes again."

Alan felt a chill go down his spine. "Are you sure you feel up to this? I mean, you nearly were a victim of this yourself."

"Don and Terry and them are at a standstill," Charlie said, still not looking at Alan. "They're still trying to find a name, but it's going to take them a while before they can narrow their list down. If I can try and predict the next site, it'll help them eliminate some names from their list."

He stopped suddenly, staring at the board in surprise. Taking a step back, Charlie examined his work again. His eyes grew wide, then narrowed.

"What?" Alan stepped further into the room, trying to see what Charlie could see.

"I have to go check something out," Charlie said. He set his chalk down and hurried out of the room. "If this is right . . ."

"Where are you going?" Alan asked.

"CalTech!" Charlie called back. "I don't know if I'm right yet, but I will once I get there. I'll be back in about an hour."

Alan watched his son take off for the front of the house, then turned back to the equations on the board. He squinted at the numbers and letters, then finally gave up.

* * *

Charlie pedaled his bike through the throngs of people and slowed as he approached California Technical Institute. He hopped off his bike and walked it onto the lush campus, his eyes searching the buildings.

The school was nearly deserted. Like the other colleges, CalTech was also on spring break. The only people still left behind were most likely professors getting a head start on lessons and grad students working on their theses. His equation told him that CalTech was the most logical target for the bombing, but he needed to see the campus for himself, to confirm the location in his own mind.

Charlie leaned his bike against a tree and continued to walk across the campus. It wasn't very large; maybe a little bigger than CalSci. Charlie had an eerie feeling of déjà vu as he walked closer to one of the buildings that housed the math department. He had been here before, over the summer, working with other mathematicians on a project. He knew the school pretty well, and he could tell that something was out of place.

He felt his skin crawl with anxiousness. His numbers were right. CalTech was next. He knew it now.

A man emerged from the math building, carrying a black suitcase. Charlie froze in his tracks, his heart leaping into his throat. The paralysis was temporary. The young genius darted back out of sight behind a tree. Something wasn't right.

Once the man had gone, Charlie moved out of hiding and ran to the math building. The door to the basement was ajar, and he hurried down the steps.

The door to the boiler room was wide open, and Charlie headed inside. He paused when he saw a red digital read-out on top of what looked frighteningly like a bomb.

"Oh God," Charlie muttered, his heart pounding in his chest. He had to get out. He had to call Don.

He turned and raced up the steps, hoping he could get help in time. He had just exited the building when something suddenly struck him hard in the head. Charlie grunted and fell to the ground, holding his aching head. Stars exploded before his eyes, and his head swam. He rolled onto his back and stopped, his eyes blinking up at the barrel of a gun.

The man he'd seen exit the building was standing over him, an intrigued expression on his face. "Well, hello there. Who might you be?"

Charlie only stared back, too frightened to speak.

"I guess there's time for introductions later," the man decided. "You're coming with me."

End Part Four


	5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five 

"Okay, we've narrowed our suspect list down to six names," Don announced to the team. "Let's pair up, everyone take a name, and let's go find this son of a bitch before he strikes again."

"Who've we got?" Terry asked as the agents filed out of the room.

"A Sam Carroway," Don stated. "He works for a construction company on the south side of town. He applied to all of the targeted schools, trying to get an engineering degree."

"Why couldn't he get in?" Terry asked as she followed Don outside.

"Apparently, he didn't have the grades to make it into any of those schools," Don answered. "Plus, he never took the ACTs. Hard to get into college without meeting all of the admission requirements."

They drove in relative silence across town to the residence listed on Carroway's information. Don walked up to the door, knowing that Terry would follow, and knocked on the door.

No answer.

Don knocked again, and Terry peeked through the curtains in a nearby window. "I don't think anybody's home," Terry commented.

Don's cell phone rang, and he answered it. "Eppes."

He frowned. "Dad? Dad, slow down. What's wrong?"

Terry turned her whole attention on her partner when she saw his body become rigid. "Charlie's where? Dad, are you sure?" A pause. "All right, I'll look into it and call you back."

"What's wrong?" Terry asked as Don pocketed his phone.

Don led her back to his car. "Apparently, Charlie figured out where the next bomb would be, and he left to go check the area out. He's been gone for two hours, and Dad's worried."

"Where's the next site?" Terry asked, buckling into the passenger seat.

"CalTech."

* * *

Terry looked out at the campus as Don pulled to a stop, frowning in concentration. "Looks deserted."

"It's still spring break," Don pointed out. "Come on. Let's go check it out."

They walked along the manicured path, eyes sweeping over the landscape and studying the buildings. A few people were walking on the campus, using the walkways as a shortcut. Don and Terry paid them no mind, intent on locating the wayward mathematician.

"Look, over there," Terry pointed. "Isn't that Charlie's bike?"

Don looked at where she was pointing. It was indeed Charlie's bicycle, leaning up against a tree. He crossed over to it, examining it. "If his bike is here, then he must be around somewhere."

They had just started to walk towards the nearest building when it suddenly exploded, knocking them to the ground.

Don shook his head and looked up at what had once been the math building for CalTech. A cold chunk of ice dropped into the pit of his stomach. "No . . ."

Terry recovered in time to see Don lurch to his feet and start for the building. She scrambled to her feet and grabbed his arm, keeping him from running into the building. "Don, no!"

Don shook off her hand. "Charlie might be in there! He might need help!"

"You don't know that!" Terry argued, grabbing Don again and forcing him to look at her. "Charlie could be anywhere! If you go in there, you'll die! Wait for rescue- they'll be here any minute."

Don looked back at the building with a pained expression on his face. He knew Terry was right; there was no way into the building that was safe. He watched, helpless, as fire left the window and stretched into the sky.

* * *

Charlie watched with wide eyes as his captor fiddled with something on a lab table. He was taped securely to a chair, unable to move even an inch. Whoever the bomber was, it didn't appear as though he knew what to do with Charlie just yet. Charlie only hoped that he would be able to talk the man into leaving him alone. Somehow, though, Charlie didn't think that was going to happen.

"So, you're the Charlie Eppes I've heard so much about," the man said suddenly. "Funny; I thought you'd be older."

"Most people do," Charlie shot back, trying to keep his voice level. "How have you heard of me?"

The man snorted. "Come now, Charlie. You should know the answer to that. It's impossible to break into any sort of mathematical field and not know who you are. My question for you is, though, what were you doing over at CalTech? I thought you taught at CalSci."

"I was working on an equation," Charlie answered cryptically.

The man nodded, still focused on whatever it was he was working on. "You know, I've heard through a friend of a friend that you moonlight as a consultant for the feds. Is that what you were doing?"

"I'm just a mathematician," Charlie replied.

"Albeit a brilliant one," the man added. "I must say, I am impressed. I didn't think anyone would catch on to what I was doing. Of course, that doesn't exactly bode well for you."

Charlie felt fear creep into his throat. "W-What do you mean?"

The man finally glanced back at him. "Well, I have only one more school to go, and I can't very well leave you around to tell the feds who I am."

"M-My brother's an FBI agent," Charlie stammered nervously. "He could work out some kind of deal for you. Just call the office; ask for Don Eppes. You don't have to do this."

"You're wrong," the man said, standing and packing some objects into his suitcase. "I do. But if I run into your brother- Don, you say? I'll be sure and say hi."

He glanced at his watch. "Well, CalTech is probably a smoldering ruin by now. I'm going to set up my final gift to the rest of the arrogant sons of bitches who cost me my degree, and you, Charlie, are going to help me."

Charlie shook his head. "No, please, _listen_. It doesn't have to be this way!"

The man ignored him, carrying his suitcase out the door. Charlie immediately began to fight against his restraints, but knew it was futile. Whatever his captor had planned, Charlie wasn't going to get out of it unless someone figured out the plot in time.

* * *

Don paced anxiously at the perimeter of the scene as the fire fighters finished dousing the blaze. He wanted more than anything to rush inside and look for his brother, but unfortunately, no one was allowed anywhere near the building until the fire department cleared it.

Don's phone rang, and he glanced at the caller ID. Wincing, he answered it. He had been dreading this call.

"Dad, take it easy . . . no, I don't know anything yet . . . I know he said he would be here, but I haven't seen him yet . . .No! You don't need to come down . . . yes, I'll call you the minute I find him." He shut off his phone.

"Don!" Terry pointed at the fire fighters exiting the building, and the two agents ran across the field toward them. Don't badge was out and ready, identifying himself even as he assaulted the men with questions.

"Was anybody inside?" he demanded. "Did you see anyone hurt?"

"The building was completely empty," one of the fire fighters told him. "Fortunately. Whoever is setting these bombs at least did us a favor and waited until the buildings were deserted."

Don sagged with relief. Charlie wasn't in there.

Then where was he?

Terry took Don's arm and pulled him back to the car. "We need to check in with the team and see if they made any headway," she said. This latest attack should help us eliminate a few more suspects."

Don nodded and wordlessly climbed into his car.

* * *

Charlie looked around at the groups of milling people, his eyes searching desperately for someone who might be able to help him. The students, though, lost in their own worlds, ignored Charlie and his captor as they made their way across the campus to a building that housed the science department.

The man's gun dug sharply into Charlie's back, and Charlie walked into the building and allowed himself to be guided down the steps to the boiler room. There was a chair propped up against the wall, which Charlie, at the instructions of the bomber, unfolded and set next against the far wall.

The bomber quickly set to work binding Charlie securely with duct tape, rendering him immobile once more.

"Nothing personal, Charlie," he said as he worked. "I actually admire you as a colleague. It's a shame it had to come to this, but I can't let you ruin my work."

"My brother's going to go looking for you," Charlie said, his voice shaky. "He's going to stop you."

The bomber finished wrapping Charlie in tape, then went to his suitcase. Unlatching it, he took out several pounds of C4, which he began to strap carefully to Charlie's chest. "Well, he's going to have to decide if saving you is more important than stopping me. Something tells me that I'll be okay. Unfortunately, I don't think I can say the same for you."

Charlie swallowed thickly as the bomber finished attaching the C4 and retrieved a detonator. Tipping his head back, he began to yell for help as loud as he could.

"Ah, ah, ah." The man paused and, tearing off a strip of duct tape, fastened it across Charlie's mouth. "I don't think anyone will be able to hear you over the noise of the boilers, but I'm not taking any chances."

Charlie watched, helpless, as the man finished setting the detonator, then packed up his suitcase. Straightening, he turned to Charlie.

"It's been a pleasure, Charlie, but I'm afraid I have to go now," he stated. "I guess I won't be seeing you again, so goodbye."

Charlie watched as the man left him alone, then looked down at his chest. The red digital clock had already begun to recycle.

Blinking back tears, Charlie looked up at the ceiling. He prayed that Don would be able to find him in time.

* * *

"It's got to be Sam Carroway," David announced the minute Don and Terry set foot into the building. "As soon as we heard about the bombing at CalTech, we matched application records to our suspect list. Carroway was the only one on the list to apply to CalTech."

"So where do we find him?" Terry asked. "He's not at home. We've got a car staked out, but I doubt he'd return. He has to know we're on to him now."

"Eppes!"

Don turned as another agent waved a phone in the air. "Call for you!"

Don picked up the phone. "This is Eppes."

"Well, hello, Mr. Eppes. I guess Charlie wasn't lying after all."

Don immediately froze, though only for a minute. "Who is this?"

"A new acquaintance of your brother's, though I don't think he'd use those words. We ran into each other just outside the math building at CalTech this afternoon."

Don beckoned furiously at Terry and David. Covering the mouth of the receiver, he whispered an order for them to trace the call. Once they got started, he responded. "Well, as a matter of fact, I'm looking for my brother right now. Can I talk to him?"

The man chuckled. "He's a little tied up right now."

Don fought back a wave of anger. "If you hurt him . . . "

"Agent Eppes, I'm not a very violent man, but I am a man looking for justice," the man stated. "Listen to me very carefully. I am almost done receiving my retribution. If you want to see your brother again, then let me finish what I've started."

"Listen, Carroway, we know who you are," Don said. "You haven't killed anybody yet. Don't start now. Just tell me where Charlie is, and I'll let the judge know that you helped us out."

Carroway chuckled again. "Knowing who I am doesn't change anything. Just let me finish, and you'll see Charlie again." The click on the other end told Don that Carroway had hung up.

"Did you get it?" Don demanded.

Terry hung up the phone. "Call came from a payphone down at Briar Community College. Science building. The college has been abandoned for a few years now."

"Sounds like someone's home," Don stated. "Let's move out!"

End Part Five


	6. Chapter Six

Chapter Six 

FBI agents swarmed into the laboratory of the abandoned school, guns up and swinging around to ward off any possible threats. The room was devoid of life save for the one man they had been searching for. As the agents surrounded him, he stood and smiled at them calmly. His ice blue eyes searched the faces, finally falling on Don. "You must be Charlie's brother, Don. He mentioned you might be coming around."

Don leveled his weapon at Carroway, his eyes cold as he lined up his shot. "Where's Charlie?" he demanded.

Carroway shrugged and began to move towards the window, unconcerned by the amount of guns currently pointing at him. "He's around. If you want to find him, you'll need to let me go."

"Forget it." Don fought against the cold panic rising in his stomach. Wherever this lunatic had stashed his brother, he knew they would never find him in time. They had to get the answer from Carroway before it was too late.

"You know, I was impressed at how quickly he managed to figure out my targets," Carroway stated, eyes focused on something outside. "I mean, I knew his credentials. In fact, I think he anticipated my last target before I had even decided on it for sure. But he didn't figure it out it was me until it was too late. I'm sure he's kicking himself about it now."

"Tell me where my brother is, you son of a bitch!" Don yelled. "I swear to God . . ."

"You kill me, he dies too," Carroway said sharply, turning back to Don. The other agents in the room could have been statues for all Carroway and Don were concerned. Carroway only spoke to Don, and Don's only thought was to get to Charlie in time. "I'm the only one who knows where he is."

"What have you done?" Don asked quietly, dangerously.

Carroway grinned menacingly. "Right now, your brother is being kept somewhere that only I know about. He has enough C4 to take out half of LA. If you don't let me go, he dies. What's it going to be?"

Don felt a rage take over him, sending tremors through his body. He felt Terry tense beside him, but ignored her. He was picturing in his mind's eye his brother, scared and alone, waiting for death.

Carroway stepped closer to Don, staring firmly into the agent's eyes. "Well?"

Don's jaw tightened. He didn't lower his gun. "What guarantee do I have that you'll hold up your end of the bargain?"

"You have none," Carroway replied honestly. "But I suggest you make your decision soon."

"Don, we can't let him go," Terry whispered.

Don's eyes never wavered from Carroway's. His training told him what he should do, but all he could think about was Charlie. "If you have so much as harmed one hair on his head, I will hunt you down and kill you myself."

Carroway handed Don a cell phone. "Once I'm gone, I'll give you a call and tell you where to find Charlie. I mean it, Don. If I see anything that even looks like a tail, I'll forget my promise and let you find Charlie on your own. In pieces."

Don felt the color drain from his face. It took everything he had to step aside and let Carroway walk out of the room.

As soon as he had gone, Terry whirled on Don. "Now what?"

"You heard him," Don said, holstering his weapon. "We wait."

"We're going to just let Carroway walk out of here, scot-free?" David asked, incredulous. "What if he strikes again?"

"Then we'll deal with him when the time comes," Don snapped. "I'm don't want that son of a bitch to go free any more than you do, but what choice do I have? He's got Charlie!"

Several agents milled about, securing the scene, while the rest filed out. Don stormed out of the lab and into the bright sunshine, deciding to wait for the call by himself.

"Hey."

Don didn't turn around. "If you're going to start with me too, then forget it."

Terry moved into his line of sight and folded her arms. "Can't I just stand here with my friend?"

Don sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "This is all my fault, Terry. If I had just made him stay off the case, then he wouldn't be in this mess."

"You already tried, Don, remember?" Terry asked softly. "Charlie's his own person. Carroway is the one responsible, not you. You're doing everything you can to make sure Charlie's safe. What more could you ask for?"

Don looked down at the ground. "What if I'm wrong?" he asked, his voice quiet. "What if I'm wrong about Carroway now?"

Terry didn't offer an answer.

Twenty minutes passed from the time Carroway had left when the phone in Don's hand began to ring. Don jumped at the sudden sound and answered it.

"I'm glad you held up your end of our deal, Don," Carroway's voice said into Don's ear.

"Where's Charlie?" Don demanded.

A chuckle filtered through the connection. "Anxious, are you? All right, I'll tell you. Your brother is in So Cal University, in the boiler room of the science building. By my watch, you have about thirty minutes until the bomb goes off. Good luck, Don."

Don snapped the phone shut and lifted his walkie-talkie to his mouth, shouting out orders. So Cal University was on the other side of town from their present location. They had no time to lose.

* * *

Students and teachers were still evacuating the building as Don, Terry, David, and their team reached their destination. Don screeched to a halt and was out of his car and in the building before the rest of the agents could exit the car. He ignored the calls from his partner. He was a man possessed now.

Don took the stairs at top speed, nearly losing his footing as he raced down towards the basement. Overhead, he could hear the other agents and members of the bomb squad thundering after him, but he ignored them. He was close now.

The basement was a maze of corridors. Don ran through the hall, opening doors and peeking in, calling his brother's name. He rounded to the other side of the basement and shoved a door open, becoming almost crazed in his search. He froze briefly at what he saw.

Charlie was sitting in a chair, his arms pinned to his sides with duct tape. Strapped to his chest was more C4 than Don had seen in his life. Charlie's mouth was covered with tape, but his brown eyes were open wide, filled with fear and swimming behind unshed tears.

"Charlie, my God." Don ran to Charlie's side and knelt down, tearing the tape off of his brother's mouth. "Are you okay?"

"Don, it's gonna go off and kill everybody! You have to get everyone out of here, call the bomb squad, alert the police!" Charlie was beside himself with panic.

"Shh, shh." Don cradled Charlie's face and looked into his brother's eyes. "Charlie, relax. The bomb squad is right behind me, and we've already evacuated the building."

Charlie was shaking his head. "We're running out of time, Don!"

A commotion behind Don signified the arrival of the bomb squad. David and Terry were with them. Don acknowledged them with a glance, but refused to move from his brother's side as the bomb squad examined the C4 and the detonator strapped to Charlie.

"We've got less than five minutes," one man called to the others. "Get me the cutters."

Charlie watched them as they worked furiously over the detonator, stripping wires and rerouting the fuses in an effort to defuse the bomb. His breath began to come in short gasps; he knew they were running short on time. Would they finish?

"Hey, Charlie." Charlie looked over at Don, who smiled reassuringly. "These guys are the best. You're in good hands. Just relax."

"Easy for you to say," Charlie replied flippantly, trying to calm his racing heart. "You're not the one with a bomb stuck to you."

"Ninety seconds!" the man called. "We need to clear the area. If you ain't helping, get lost!"

Charlie felt terror seize his heart. "Don, you have to go."

"Forget it," Don shot back instantly. He turned to Terry and David. "You two clear out and secure the building. Just in case."

David and Terry hesitated, but turned and followed his orders. Don turned back to Charlie.

"Don, I don't want you to die, too," Charlie insisted, his voice thick. "Please, go."

"Look, Charlie, the only way I'm leaving is if you're with me," the older Eppes stated. "I'm not going, so quit trying to convince me."

Charlie felt gratitude that his brother wouldn't leave him alone, but he prayed that everything would work out all right. Unbidden, a tear slipped down his cheek.

"Thirty seconds!"

Don sought out Charlie's hand and gripped it. "I'm here, Charlie."

Charlie squeezed back tightly.

"Ten seconds!"

"Come on, come on," the bomb expert muttered to himself. He rerouted the last wire and held the wire cutters over the last wire. Without hesitating, he clipped it. The timer paused at three seconds left.

"Clear!"

Charlie let out a sob of relief, and Don began to tug at the tape binding Charlie to the chair. The other bomb squad members helped, and within moments, Charlie was free. Don tugged him to his feet and pulled him into a tight hug.

"We gotta move," the first man said. "We've stopped the timer, but the bomb can still be triggered by remote detonator."

Don gripped Charlie's arm and began to pull Charlie out of the boiler room to safety. He didn't stop until they were outside and away from the building. Don led Charlie to his car and set Charlie down in the passenger seat, then crouched down before him.

"Are you hurt?" Don demanded. "Do you need an ambulance?"

Charlie shook his head, his eyes glassy and his mouth clamped shut. He hugged his arms tightly to his stomach, not trusting himself to speak.

"Hey." Don reached up and cupped Charlie's cheek gently. "I have to finish some things, but as soon as I'm done, I'm going to take you home. All right?"

Charlie nodded.

Don's hand fell to Charlie's shoulder, which he squeezed. Standing, he crossed over to where a group of agents stood, waiting for instructions.

"Larson, I want you to stay with my brother until I come back," Don ordered. "I don't know if Carroway is nearby, but if he is, I don't want him to get near Charlie again."

Larson nodded and moved over to Don's car.

Don turned to the rest of his team. "We're going to spread out and search the city for Carroway. Check all airports, have the highway patrol notified, and set up roadblocks. No one leaves town without going through one of us."

The team all nodded and split up, calling out their assignments to one another. Don pulled Terry and David aside and checked to make sure no one was listening.

"Carroway could be anywhere by now," David stated.

"I don't think he'll leave just yet," Don said. "This guy wants to see his justice enacted. I think he's nearby, ready to blow up another school. I just don't think So Cal is it."

"But he had a bomb here," Terry protested. "Why put it in danger and not follow through?"

"To distract us," Don replied. "Remember the list of schools Carroway applied to? So Cal wasn't one of them."

"So where's his next target?" David asked.

"I think it's Carson Community College," Don answered. "The school he ended up going to. He never actually finished his education; he was expelled, remember? That had to have pushed him over the edge."

"If you're right, then we need to hurry," Terry said. "Carson is just up the road. A lot of people are going to get hurt."

Don grabbed his radio. "I need a bomb squad and another unit dispatched to Carson Community College. Suspect may be present at the science or math building."

He didn't wait for a response; instead, he took off down the street with Terry and David close behind.

* * *

Carroway finished the last touches of his bomb, then straightened. Smiling to himself, he turned and headed back out of the boiler room and up the stairs. He had just exited the building when he found himself face-to-face with the barrel of a gun.

"Stop right there."

Carroway grinned brightly. "Don! Did you find your brother? How's he doing?"

Don gripped his gun tightly, feeling a recklessness come over him. "Just give me a reason. Please."

"Put your hands over your head," Terry ordered.

Carroway lifted his hands up. "This isn't over, Don. Not by a long shot."

"That's what you think," Don replied. He kept his weapon trained on Carroway as David stepped forward and cuffed him. More members of the bomb squad hurried past them, heading into the building to diffuse the next bomb.

David began to tug Carroway towards the squad cars now arriving at the school. Carroway stopped and turned back to Don, a contemplative look on his face.

"You have a little of that genius streak in you, too," he stated blandly. "I look forward to our next meeting."

"There won't be a next meeting," Don told him.

Carroway smiled mischievously. "We'll see."

David forced Carroway away from Don and Terry. Terry turned to Don, who holstered his gun and rubbed his face wearily.

"I'll take care of securing the scene," she told him. "Go look after Charlie. He needs you."

Don studied his partner's face. "You sure?"

Terry smiled and nodded. "Go on. I'll see you later."

Don dropped a hand on Terry's shoulder, grateful. With a tired smile, he took off back in the direction of So Cal.

End Part Six


	7. Epilogue

Epilogue 

The credits for the movie rolled across the screen. Alan turned the volume down, then turned to his sons on the couch next to him.

Don was reclined comfortably, his feet propped up on the coffee table. Tucked securely under one arm was Charlie, who had fallen asleep. His curly head lolled against Don's shoulder, his body turned slightly toward Don. Don rubbed his eyes wearily; he had burned himself out on the bombing case, and a movie with his family was just what he needed to relax. He glanced down at his slumbering brother, then met his father's soft grin.

"I guess he was more tired than he let on," Alan commented quietly. "How long did he last?"

"Not quite halfway, I think," Don replied. "I'd hate to disturb him. I don't think he got much sleep since this all started."

"You gonna talk to me about this case?" Alan asked.

"Some other time, maybe, when it's not so fresh in my mind," Don admitted truthfully.

Alan nodded, then stood. He took a seat on Charlie's other side, then with a gentleness that only a parent possessed, slipped his arms around Charlie and pulled him away from Don. Charlie let out a slight grunt of protest, but didn't waken. His head fell against the crook of Alan's shoulder, and he fell silent once more.

Don slid off of the couch and placed a pillow against the arm. He helped Alan settle Charlie more comfortably onto the couch, then lifted Charlie's legs onto the couch as his father shook out a blanket and spread it over the young genius. Once they had finished, they stood back and admired their handiwork.

"You turning in?" Alan asked his eldest.

"In a little while," Don replied. "You go on ahead."

Alan hugged his son, then retreated to the stairs. Don watched him go, then sank into the chair his father had vacated. His eyes fell on his brother's sleeping form, allowing the feelings he'd been fighting all week finally come out of their cage in his mind.

He had nearly lost Charlie several times this week. The very thought troubled Don more than he cared to admit. He had worked hard to create an air of detachment when he worked on cases for the Bureau, and it bothered him that, within the span of a few seconds, it had all gone flying out the window. It didn't matter that he was an accomplished agent; at the mere hint of the danger Charlie had been in, Don was suddenly a panicky, overprotective big brother.

The truth was, Don didn't believe that any training in the world would have helped him. Charlie was just so naïve about, well, everything, and Don felt that it was his responsibility to protect that part of his brother. No matter how irritating it was, Don didn't think he could stand it if Charlie ever lost that wide-eyed innocence about him.

Don leaned his head back against the chair and closed his eyes. He was so tired.

Twenty minutes later, Alan crept back down the stairs to check on his sons. He smiled fondly when he found Don fast asleep in the wingback chair beside the couch. Retrieving another blanket, he spread it over Don, then stepped back to gaze at his boys. A feeling of immense pride swelled in his heart; no matter what difficulties his sons faced, they came through for each other.

The End


End file.
